5 Pitiful

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The nursemaid Qi followed the girl away. Zhao Baozhu stood in place, looking left and right, feeling somewhat at a loss.

Although Nursemaid Qi had told him to wait before leaving, Zhao Baozhu remembered what Fang Li had said: when he came to inspect the work later, he had to make sure the tasks assigned to him were completed first.

Fortunately, all the tools needed for farm work were available at the small farmstead. Zhao Baozhu approached the chicken coop, picked up a wooden ladle from a bucket, added fresh water to the trough, and then prepared the feed. Having grown up on a farm himself, with only his father and him at home, Zhao Baozhu often helped with chores during his free time from studying. Feeding chickens and ducks was second nature to him.

While the chickens and ducks were busy eating, Zhao Baozhu thoroughly cleaned the chicken coop and counted the poultry there. The number was astonishing—several hundred chickens and ducks in total.

This was even more than what his family raised. Zhao Baozhu marveled inwardly; as expected of an inn in the capital, business must be thriving, necessitating raising their own poultry for the kitchen.

He wondered who took care of these birds usually—the cleaning was quite neglected, with piles of chicken droppings stacked like small hills in the corners. Zhao Baozhu worked hard to clean it all up, replaced the straw bedding throughout the coop, and finally scrubbed the water trough clean. By the time he finished, the sun had climbed to the zenith.

Wiping his forehead with his sleeve, Zhao Baozhu looked up at the sky. The northern winter sun was pale, its rays piercing through gray clouds, glaring painfully into the eyes.

It was nearly noon. Nursemaid Qi had not returned yet.

Zhao Baozhu rested in the shade of a tree for a while. When the sun dipped lower, he resumed working.

He toiled until the sun was sinking in the west, the fiery clouds dyeing the horizon red. Nearing dusk, he finally completed all the tasks Fang Li had assigned that morning. After tidying up his tools, he walked under the vast shadow of a phoenix tree in the backyard and quietly waited for Fang Li to come inspect his work. But no matter how long he waited, no one appeared.

"Grumble."

With a soft rumble from his stomach, Zhao Baozhu lowered his eyes and placed a hand on his flattened belly. He had been working under the scorching sun for most of the day, now empty and thirsty. Yet, coming from one of Yizhou’s poorest mountain villages, where hunger was a frequent visitor in his childhood, Zhao Baozhu was used to such hardship. Seeing no sign of anyone coming, he rested against the tree trunk, hugged his knees while squatting, curling his torso to keep warm and ease his hunger.

Then, he pulled out the book he always carried from his belt, intending to review his lessons before the sun fully set.

After all, the spring imperial examination was just over a month away; he had to study diligently. As he read, he suddenly recalled the lost name card, and worry clouded his mind. If he still couldn’t find it by the exam, he truly did not know what he would do.

Zhao Baozhu brooded quietly. The courtyard was empty; the chickens and ducks, having eaten their fill, wandered about the clean coop as if taking a leisurely stroll after a meal. A gray mallard waddled over, its small yellow feet unsteady, and squatted beside him, raising its tail.

Sighing softly, Zhao Baozhu gently lifted the plump duck onto his lap, patting its lush feathers with practiced hands. Whether from laziness or comfort at the touch, the duck settled down obediently, resting on his knees.

After a while, a group of newly hatched chicks gathered nearby, huddling close to Zhao Baozhu, their small beaks preening their feathers. Having raised chickens and geese since he was a child, Zhao Baozhu was accustomed to this. Muttering softly, he reached out to steady a chick that nearly stumbled, scooping it into his arms.

The chick cluster nestled against his warm abdomen, fluffing their feathers contentedly and chirping softly. Stroking the glossy feathers of the fat duck, Zhao Baozhu thought that if he truly couldn’t find the name card, perhaps he could just work some simple job in the capital, then take the exam in three years, meanwhile saving some silver to send back to his elderly father in the village.

“The noble path is attained through sincerity and trust; arrogance and complacency cause its loss—”

Holding the chicks in his arms, he read aloud, nodding his head. Suddenly, he noticed a shadow stretching before him out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw the person standing there, his eyes brightening:

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“Brother Fang!”

He greeted the suddenly appearing Fang Li with delight, quickly closing his book and standing up. “You’re finally here. I’ve finished all the work. Please check if anything’s missing.”

Fang Li approached with a peculiar expression. He glanced at Zhao Baozhu with a complicated look, as if about to say something but hesitating, then turned and headed toward the chicken coop.

Seeing no smile on Fang Li’s face, Zhao Baozhu’s heart tightened slightly, hastening to follow.

Outside the chicken pen, Fang Li poked at the straw with a stick, glanced into the trough, and his tightly furrowed brow eased a bit. Thinking to himself, this little beggar might be slick-tongued and prone to whining when given the chance, but his work seemed fairly neat.

Just then, Fang Li turned and caught sight of Zhao Baozhu standing right behind him, clutching a fat duck and staring at him intently with cat-like eyes.

Fang Li’s brows immediately knitted again. “What are you doing? Put that duck down at once! It’s filthy!”

His northern features—thick eyebrows meeting his temples, a high nose bridge—made him look rather intimidating when frowning. Yet Zhao Baozhu was unafraid, blinking a few times before carefully setting the duck on the ground. He patted the duck’s plump chest one last time with reluctance, watching it waddle back into the coop, murmuring softly:

“It’s not dirty; the duck’s very clean.”

Fang Li stared at Zhao Baozhu incredulously. Everyone in the Ye household, except the few servants who had just attended to them, feared him—yet this little beggar dared to talk back quietly!

Seeing Fang Li glare, Zhao Baozhu smiled again. “Brother Fang, I finished all the work you assigned.”

Hearing this, Fang Li’s expression shifted. He pressed his lips tight, then awkwardly said, “The work… well, it’s… alright.” Saying that, he grabbed the back collar of Zhao Baozhu’s clothes and started pulling him out. “Hurry up and go wash! You stink!”

Zhao Baozhu felt baffled. Sniffing his sleeve, he said, “Where’s the smell—?”

He’d only held the ducks and chicks briefly, and had rolled up his sleeves while working. How could he possibly smell bad? City folk were so particular, he thought.

Pulled half-dragged to the courtyard gate, Zhao Baozhu reached out, grabbing Fang Li’s sleeve. “Brother Fang, can I wash later?” He looked up at the man’s frowning face and pleaded with a slight curve of his eyes, “Can I eat first? I’m really hungry. At least let me have some water.”

Fang Li’s anger flickered and his gaze lingered on Zhao Baozhu’s face. Only then did he notice the boy’s full lips were cracked and dry in places.

Recalling Zhao Baozhu curled up under the tree earlier, Fang Li’s brow twitched. “You didn’t eat at noon?”

Zhao Baozhu was stunned. “There’s food at noon…?”

The two stared at each other with wide eyes, an awkward silence settling between them. Zhao Baozhu explained that in his hometown, most people only ate two meals a day: one at dawn, and one after finishing farm work before sunset, then went to bed early to avoid feeling hunger.

Fang Li understood and his expression darkened. He frowned deeply, turning away to mutter under his breath, “…those lowlifes!”

Zhao Baozhu didn’t know who he meant and blinked in confusion. Fang Li cursed quietly again, then faced Zhao Baozhu. Seeing the boy’s pleading look, his anger softened, and he spoke more gently:

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“I’ll take you to eat first.”

Zhao Baozhu was overjoyed, nodding enthusiastically.

Fang Li led him through the courtyard gate, winding through narrow alleys until they reached a side room.

“Remember, this is where the servants eat every day,” Fang Li said, lifting the blue curtain hanging at the door. Zhao Baozhu followed inside, seeing two or three wooden tables, each set with bowls and plates.

Unfortunately, the bowls contained only leftovers. Clearly, the other servants had finished the food before Zhao Baozhu arrived.

Zhao Baozhu’s eyes widened slightly. He didn’t mind the lack of dishes, but when he saw the wooden bucket that once held rice was completely empty, his brows drooped in disappointment.

...There was no rice left at all.

He stood before the empty bucket, touching his stomach in dismay. It looked like he would go hungry today.

At that moment, a suppressed angry voice came from behind him: “…those filthy scoundrels!”

Zhao Baozhu turned to see Fang Li’s face cold and sharp. With a punch, Fang Li struck the nearby wooden table, shattering the bowls and plates.

It seemed Fang Li hadn’t enforced the rules in the backyard for a while. These lazy, gluttonous fools were even resorting to exclusion tactics! Fang Li was furious. Since arriving at this estate with the young master, his life had been too peaceful—so much so he had momentarily forgotten the messy politics of the household.

Fang Li’s knuckles cracked as he clenched his fist, but seeing Zhao Baozhu standing there with a puzzled look, his anger stalled and he slowly unclenched his hand.

“...We’ll deal with this later.”

He beckoned Zhao Baozhu forward.

“Come with me first.”

*The quoted verse is from The Great Learning.